


From the Practice Field

by Evil_Sapphyre



Series: Nicole Trevelyan [2]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Romance, solace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3231308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Sapphyre/pseuds/Evil_Sapphyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a trying lesson from Seeker Pentaghast, Nicole Trevelyan finds a brief respite and source of comfort from a person she least suspected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork by Greendelle

[](http://s78.photobucket.com/user/spazeghost/media/Amber/evilsap.jpg.html)

The edge of the shield smashed the fingers on her left against the rough wood of the practice bow, and Nicole barely managed to duck her head beneath the training sword that Cassandra brought round. Her feet threatened to slip out from their footing as the Seeker pressed her advantage, leveraging her weight into the shield, until Nicole fell to the ground on her ass. The mix of snow and ice did little to pad the fall, and before she could try to scramble to her feet, the tip of the sword was at her throat.

Cassandra glared with those impossibly dark eyes of hers, looking as fierce as she did when she pressed the attack."If this was a real combat, Herald, you would be dead."

Nicole gritted her teeth, leaning her head back enough to keep the blunted tip of the sword from touching her neck. "Well, I'll consider myself fortunate that this is only practice then."

Cassandra made a disgusted noise from the back of her throat as she shook her head. The sword moved away from Nicole's throat, allowing her a moment to actually breathe a bit more comfortably. She hiked herself up onto her elbows, trying to ignore the pain where the shield caught her left hand earlier. The Seeker sheathed her sword and offered the other woman a hand off the ground. "These practices are meant to better your chances in actual combat. They serve no purpose if you don't take anything from them."

"Well, perhaps..." Nicole paused as she tried to find the proper wording to use. After all, she was fairly certain glib and spirited responses weren't going to win her any favor with Cassandra. The Seeker was already livid that she skipped out of three days of these practices as it were. It was on the morning of the fourth day that Cassandra made her way to the small house in Haven that Nicole slept in well before dawn, and she was there when Nicole attempted to sneak off. It probably was why this practice was particularly punishing. "Perhaps if the practice were more akin to actual combat?"

Cassandra raised an eyebrow as Nicole brushed snow off her leathers and picked up her bow. "You need to know how to defend yourself against any enemy. Especially in one on one scenarios."

"It just seems that your particular scenario is rather impractical." She gripped her practice bow in her left hand, despite the protest of her fingers.

The Seeker sneered at her choice of words, and Nicole took a reflexive step backwards. "Impractical?"

The fury that followed the incredulous note was poured into the next hour of practice. Cassandra spoke little, setting about to prove her point with action rather than words. Nicole spent a majority of the practice getting knocked on her ass over and over again. Thankfully, the shield blows normally landed against her leathers, but eventually, even that offered little in the way of protection. The worst, though, was her left hand. She never once complained about the pain, but she did manage to see the damage. Her knuckles were red, and more than a little swollen from where it had been smashed along the edge of the shield. Nicole was rather surprised she could even grasp the bow by the end of the practice.

Fortunately, the arrival of the Inquisition soldiers seemed to cool Cassandra's wrath, and she relented to let Nicole leave. Perhaps she wanted to spare the embarrassment of having the Herald of Andraste being whipped about the practice field in front of men that Nicole was supposed to inspire. Granted, Cassandra ended things with a promise that practice would continue tomorrow morning. Perhaps Nicole should go speak with Josephine. Maybe there was a visiting dignitary that needed to be dazzled with charm and wit, and Nicole could beg out of another practice session.

She chuckled a bit to herself when the thought of talking to some passing noble sounded more appealing than getting to play with her bow. Her mother would be beyond shocked if she knew that, but it was sadly true. At least if today's practices were any indication of how other one's would go. The one small benefit was now that this morning's practice was done, she could go hide out. Or even go to the tavern and drink.

A good stiff drink sounded bloody marvelous right now with the way her hand ached. Perhaps if she drank enough, she wouldn't notice the way it throbbed. The sound of metal clashing against metal began to fill her ears, as the soldiers began going through their drills. It was still rather early in the morning; maybe drinking herself into a stupor wasn't the best of ideas quite yet.

She sighed as she began to walk towards a small cabin not far from the practice grounds, doing her best to flex her fingers. She could at least still move them. There was some small measure of hope in that fact, but she doubted that would be the case in a few hours, given how swollen the knuckles already appeared. She'd be damned lucky to be able to hold the bow tomorrow, let alone try to fire it.

Footsteps along the road behind her caught her attention, and she closed her eyes, praying that whomever it was would just keep going. Really, she had her fill of dealing with people for the immediate time being. Regardless, she stopped and waited. Her luck had been just the worst of late.

A male voice cleared his throat, and she found herself smiling despite herself. "It would, uh, appear the Seeker became wise to your ruse."

Turning around with open eyes, she found that it was Commander Cullen, who had followed her, in his heavy armor. How she hadn't heard him coming was beyond her, and it happened twice now. Was it because she got lost in her own thoughts that she kept failing to pay attention to the world around her? Or maybe it was just that furry red cloak of his? Perhaps it absorbed sound rather than just look ridiculously comfortable. Her voice was light and teasing when she spoke. "Yes, it would seem so. You didn't have a hand in that, by chance?"

"Assuredly not." A soft smile touched his lips, the corners of his amber eyes crinkling ever so slightly. "Cassandra can be rather tenacious in seeking out her targets."

"Oh, I noticed." Nicole wrinkled her nose. "Tenacious and surly. Two of my favorite things to deal with first thing in the morning. And I wager tomorrow morning that it'll be tenacious, surly, and humiliating. What fun."

"She means..."

"May the Maker help you if you tell me she means well again. The bruises I'm going to find in the morning beg to differ." Nicole shook her head, a few locks of blonde hair falling free. She might have cut it a tad too short for the ponytail when she hacked off her hair to spite her mother. "I mean, how in the name of Andraste, are these practices supposed to help me when all she does is run at me with her shield? I have absolutely no chance of getting a shot off, and frankly in close quarters, a bow has zero chance against a shield. I'm not stupid."

Cullen merely watched her as she ranted. If he disagreed with anything she said, he never let it show on his face. Nicole was grateful for that. He took a half step forward, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Perhaps she is hoping to make it so you are able to evade a situation similar to that should one arise?"

Nicole scoffed, letting her weight rock back on to her right heel. "Have you seen that woman on the combat field? With her scowling and sneering and waving her sword in the air? Most things never even glance in my direction. All she is doing is taking advantage of me by trying to make me fight fair." The words felt as petulant as they sounded, but she didn't care. Her hand ached, and she really was not wanting to try and see the importance of Cassandra's lessons. She sighed, waving her right hand in the air. "Don't mind me. Cassandra mostly just injured my pride this morning."

"I wouldn't be quite so hard on yourself. I'm sure you handled yourself better than you think." She wrinkled her nose at his kind words, noticing that a hint of a smile was on his face again. If it hadn't been for that scar on the right side of his face, she might not have even noticed it.

"My hand would respectfully care to disagree with that assessment." She winced as she flexed the hand again, the movement feeling stiff. Those drinks were beginning to sound like the better idea after all.

Concern warmed his eyes, or maybe that was just the pain clouding her own vision. He tilted his head to the side as he stepped forward, gesturing to her hand. "May I?"

"Oh, uh, of course." She managed a bit of a nod as he took her hand, her admittedly much smaller hand, into his own.

For a man encased in mostly steel, he was surprisingly gentle, almost as if he were caressing the hand as he examined the swollen knuckles. It was still rather painful, but she almost didn't mind at the moment. Almost. He cleared his throat again. "Back when I was a young recruit for the Order, we found that the wintry months were the best time for the practice fields."

"A young recruit? You make it sound like you're ever so ancient, Ser."

He chuckled a bit as he released her hand, kneeling down until he could touch the snow covered ground. "Well, in truth, it was some time ago, my Lady Trevelyan." It was her turn to chuckle a bit, and she was more than a bit intrigued when she watched him gather a handful of snow into one hand. "We found that after a hard, grueling day of practicing, we often had as more bruises than we could count, but the training masters would not care come morning."

She arched an eyebrow as he stood, snow still in hand. She was rather puzzled as to where this was possibly going. "So, you frolicked in the snow with the other young recruits?"

"Not quite." There was a touch of mirth in his eyes. He took her left hand in his once more, the same gentleness that he had the first time, before he pressed the mass of snow on top the injured fingers.

A gasp escaped her lips, as the cold of the snow mingled with the pain of the sudden weight. "Cold. You could have warned me."

"Sorry. I thought it was apparent." He held her hand between his, applying just enough pressure to ensure the snow covered the entire hand. "Frolicking in the snow?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure what young templars do in their spare time."

He chuckled again, and it warmed her cheeks just a bit. She liked the sound of his laugh. "Studying the chant? Practicing our techniques? Yes. Frolicking? No."

"Well, I know for future discussions. No frolicking allowed." She fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him, laughing a bit instead. Even now, the pain in her hand started to subside as everything apart from the gentle pressure of his hands began to fade away.

He watched her with those intense eyes of his, eyes that looked tired despite the early hour of the morning. She found herself looking away, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear with her right hand. He cleared his throat. "Have you considered wearing a glove over the hand? It could help absorb some of the impact."

"I've tried. It's just..." She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "It feels wrong."

"Wrong?"

"The, uh, mark. I tried to cover it. It just... didn't feel right." She didn't want to talk about that _thing_ on her hand. Most days she was able to ignore it, but it was always there. And sometimes it would pulse with a pain that would make the injury Cassandra bestowed upon her pale in comparison. It was like shoving her hand into fire, the skin melting to the bone. It was the worst agony she could imagine. It was better to pretend it didn't exist. Nicole considered making a fast excuse and heading back into town, as the silence engulfed the space around them. Her hand was sufficiently numb as it was.

"Perhaps..." Cullen's voice trailed off, and she glanced up to see him watching her again. She was fairly certain it was concern lingering in his eyes that time. "Perhaps I could instruct you in some techniques that could help you with your practice sessions?"

"What kind of techniques?" Nicole would be lying to say if she was not intrigued. She raised an eyebrow slightly.

That soft smile of his appeared once more. She'd be content to just stand here with her half frozen hand and admire him. However silly that was. "There may be a few ways to exploit the tactics traditionally used by templars. Cassandra, for all her other training, fights like most members of the Order."

She happily returned his smile. "Oh, tell me more..."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Nicole found herself rousing from bed early, but not in an attempt to hide from Cassandra. Despite the fact that she could barely move her hand since the fingers were nearly twice their normal size, she was eager to test out the pointers that Cullen had given to her. Plus, he suggested that if she got down to the practice field early enough, he would try to give her some hands-on tips before her session with Cassandra. The thought of any sort of hands on activity with the Commander was rather enticing, even if everything would be above reproach if properly examined.

Her shoulders and arms protested as she slipped on the leathers, as the failings of yesterday were becoming more pronounced. Maybe if she managed to get the best of Cassandra, she'd be allowed to have a day or two to rest. For a second, she idly considered wrapping her left hand, but the thought of having to feel that energy rippling against even scraps of cloth made her skin crawl. No, she would have to deal with the injury in its current state. Slipping out of the house, torchlight marked the way toward the front gate of Haven, and she hurried the short distance, ignoring the way her breath steamed into the cold air.

Within a few minutes, she found herself on the other side of the gate, looking out toward the very empty practice yard overlooking the frozen lake. There was almost no light, save the ominous glow of the Breach; quiet blanketed the entire scene, almost as engulfing as night. It was somehow unnerving and peaceful at the same time. It was probably that whole pesky, world trying to rip itself asunder part of the hole in the sky that kept her from being able to really relax under what should have been a beautiful sight to behold.

The gate opening broke her train of thoughts, and she turned to see Cullen walking towards her. It was actually a rather odd sight. He was without the massive bulk of his armor, and his customary surcoat; instead, he wore what looked to be simple leather breeches, boots, and a cotton shirt. That settled it. The man was certifiably insane to be out in the cold so underdressed, even if it did allow her to be able to appreciate the musculature that was normally hidden beneath pounds of steel.  _I wonder if there are any other scars that he's hiding._

Thankfully, the dim light the Breach provided was enough to mask the blush that thought brought on, or at least she hoped it was. If it didn't she could always claim it was from the cold. She smiled as he stopped in front of her – a smile that he easily returned. "Good morning, Herald."

Her nose wrinkled at the sound of the title. Despite that station of her birth, she disliked being addressed so formally. "It's far too dark for this to be morning. It really should be a crime to be out of one's bed this early. To which, I must thank you for agreeing to assist me despite the disruption to your own sleep."

"I, uh, likely would have been awake, anyways."

"Really?" She arched a brow. If that were true, that would explain why he always looked tired. "Do you actually get any sleep?"

"I get enough." He cleared his throat and indicated the empty practice field ahead of them. "We should probably get started if you wanted to try any of the techniques I told you about before Cassandra arrives, Herald."

She pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth. That was a classic evasive answer if she ever heard one, and she knew those types of answers intimately. She often gave them herself. Still, the man had agreed to help her, and he did have a point regarding their limited time. It would be rude of her to pry at this point. She walked ahead of him until they were a standing amidst the worn dirt that was only lightly coated by snow. "You know, if we are going to be meeting like this,  _Cullen_ , I'm really going to have to insist that you call me Nicole instead."

He chuckled as he picked up a practice shield and sword. "Fair enough, Nicole. Was there something in particular you wanted to see?"

"All of it?" She smiled as she followed suit, grabbing the bow with her right hand. She wasn't even sure she wanted to try and hold the bow with her left.

Cullen obliged her request and began showing her the various ways to exploit a templar's combat training. Unlike the sessions with Cassandra, he never pressed like an actual combat, rather just using the sword and shield to show how the enemy's attack would be incoming, in order for her to figure out a counter. Most of the time, the dodging seemed simple enough, and his suggestions were easy to follow, even if more difficult to actually perform. The tactics all had something in common, they were meant for Nicole to take advantage of her mobility and size.

Cullen stood in front of her, shield placed between them. "As I said, if you can knock the opponent off balance, it'll buy you time to get some distance and possibly even land a quick shot from your bow."

"Oh, is that all? Knock them off balance?" The frustration of trying to not only dodge the incoming attack but somehow gain enough leverage to trip a person with sure footing as they were closing in with a shield was becoming palpable. Cassandra would be out in the practice fields soon, and the only thing all of this extra work was going to amount to was more bruises and scathing remarks from the woman.

"It's easier than it seems. Let me show you." Cullen set down the practice shield and sword before moving to stand behind her. It took all her self control not to tense when the man placed his hands on her hips. It was all purely professional, but the Commander of the Inquisition forces was far more handsome than Ser Roland, the older armsmaster her father employed to train his men. It made it more difficult to not be distracted by how comfortably Cullen's hands seemed to rest on her, and how he helped her to move her hips to properly roll with a blow of an incoming shield. She was quite thankful that the cold and darkness would hide the warmth that crept along her cheeks, not that there was any audience. That was probably for the best right about now.

She did her best to focus on the instructions he gave her, his voice soft and patient.  _Roll, lean, hook._ It all seemed so simple right now, especially with how he guided her with his hands through the motions. Again, her mind marvelled at exactly how gentle he was with her, never wrenching her into a position and giving her time to move with him. After walking her through the steps three times, he reclaimed his practice weapons, and he feigned an attack, even though it was no where near the speed of actual combat.

_Roll._

_Lean._

_Hook._

Her eyes widened as Cullen went crashing to the ground as her foot hooked his ankle. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she reached out a hand to help him to his feet. How did she manage to do that? "Oh! Oh, no! I'm so sorry!"

His amber eyes crinkled with a bit of mirth, a soft chuckle in his throat. "No need to apologize. I've taken worse spills before. You seem to be a quick learner." He grasped her hand with his warm and calloused one, as he got back to his feet, and she ignored the lance of pain through her fingers. Like an idiot, she offered her injured hand without thinking.

"But you knew it was coming! I shouldn't have been able to do that." She tried to cover the pain with a smile, forcing it as much as she could and looking over her shoulder toward the gate, in time to see it opening once more.

"Be that as it may..." Nicole returned her attention to Cullen, knowing that it was likely the Seeker about to descend upon them in moments. Her instructor gathered his sword, sheathing it on his belt. "A well-performed maneuver can best even the most skilled and knowledgeable warrior."

She pursed her lips as she listened to what sounded like an awfully rehearsed line. "You slipped on the ice, didn't you?"

His brow furrowed together as he looked to her, as if silently questioning her, only for his attention to turn to the sound of encroaching footsteps. He seemed to instinctively fall into a resting stance, with one hand on the pommel of his sword. "Good morning, Cassandra."

"Commander." The Seeker's voice sounded far too awake for the early hour. Nicole took a step back in time to see the curious glance Cassandra gave Cullen. The woman was outfitted in her traditional armor, her sword on a hip and shield already in place on her forearm. "I did not expect to find you out here this morning. Either of you."

Nicole smiled a bit at that, shrugging at the other woman. "What can I say? I'm just full of surprises today."

"So it would seem." The dark eyes of the other woman glinted in the greenish light of the Breach. Was that approval? Or just more disdain? Nicole had no idea. Reading that woman was like trying to read the Lady Trevelyan; one simply couldn't. Cassandra adjusted the shield on her arm. "Shall we get started then, Herald?"

"Oh, I get a say this morning?" Nicole gripped her bow tight in her right hand as the withering gaze fell on her. Cassandra certainly wasn't a fan of her sense of humor, that much was for swiftness of the attack that came after her comment was proof of that. It caught Nicole by surprise, and she found herself backpedalling before landing on her ass.

Clamboring back to her feet, she picked up her bow as Cassandra shook her head. The swirling abyss of the Breach silhouetted the Seeker, making her appear far more ominous. "Did you not learn anything from yesterday?"

"Well, to be fair, I wasn't quite ready." Nicole didn't bother to hide the grimace as pain raced from her swollen fingers all the way to her elbow. She did, at least, set her feet in case the Seeker came charging back in for another round.

Cassandra scowled in her direction, flicking the tip of her sword toward the ground. She stalked around the yard, always facing toward Nicole. "An opponent will not wait for you to be ready."

Nicole wasn't about to let the Seeker get the jump on her, and she turned to stay facing toward the other woman. Cullen stood just outside the perimeter of the field, watching with his arms crossed over his chest.  _Oh, lovely, I'll get to embarrass myself fully now._  That thought just irritated her more. Nicole decided that she might as well share that agitation. "Yes, I know. If this were  _real combat_ , I'd be dead. So are you going to spank me some more about the yard, or just dance around and insult me?"

There was a brief snarl from Cassandra before she bore down on Nicole's position with her shield. Nicole brought up the practice bow in a feint, as if she were going to block with it. As soon as the shield made contact, she  _rolled_  with the blow, until Cassandra began to stumble forward. Nicole  _leaned_  into the other woman than, pressing her weight into her side, and causing the Seeker to grunt as she tried to adjust her own weight. That was when Nicole  _hooked_  her foot around Cassandra's ankle, yanking the woman off balance. Without hesitating, Nicole bounded to the edge of the yard.

She had every intention of dropping to her knee and drawing her bow, to mock landing a blow back on the Seeker, but in the dim light of the Breach, she spied two tiny balls of snow packed neatly there. Nicole dropped the bow to the ground as she grabbed one of the snowballs, spinning toward Cassandra. She let her weapon of convenience fly without hesitation, and the white powder erupted around the Seeker's face just as she managed to get back to her feet.

Nicole's eyes widened as she realized what she did; the Seeker appeared frozen in place. For the time being at least. The snow slid down her nose face, until just a light dusting appeared over her nose. Nicole did her best to bite back her laughter, but a tiny bubble slipped past her lips. Cassandra remained where she stood. Her fury was quiet when she spoke."Do you find this funny?"

_Well, yes, actually, it quite is._  Fortunately, Nicole's mouth wasn't listening to her brain. "Of course not. I'm not sure if you noticed, but there's probably not a chance I'd be able to draw my bow if I wanted to right now." Nicole held up her left hand, which screamed against even that movement. "So, I improvised when I got the decided advantage."

It wasn't really a lie. The thought briefly flitted through Nicole's mind when she saw the snowballs, and she wasn't keen on the idea of using her left hand as it were. Cassandra seemed to doubt her reasoning, as the Seeker sheathed her sword. "You improvised?"

"Yes, well, that could have been an arrow to your face. And then you'd be dead. If this were  _actual_  combat..." Nicole regretted those last words as a sneer appeared on Cassandra's face. It probably wasn't wise to mock the more experienced warrior with her own words. It wasn't the best way to try and make friends.

Cassandra shook her head again, removing the shield from her arm. "If you were injured from our session yesterday, you should have told me. When you are better, perhaps we will begin anew. If you so wish."

Nicole raised one eyebrow. Cassandra's words felt like a trap because it sounded like these mandatory training sessions might have just been made optional. "Really? It's my call?"

"Do not act so surprised. I may not approve of your... improvisation..." The word sounded harsh as it rolled out of Cassandra's mouth. "However, I cannot deny that you rose to the occasion to try and best me. That is all I wanted to see. Now, if you will excuse me, Commander, Herald, I will go see to the arrangements for the trip to Val Royeaux. We should be leaving soon."

Nicole watched, mouth agape, as Cassandra headed back to the gate. The silence filled the practice yard again as she watched the woman disappear back into Haven proper. "Did that really just happen?"

"I told you she meant well." Cullen's voice warmed over her, and she had almost forgot that he was still there.

She cut her eyes towards him, as he stood with his hand resting on the pommel of his practice sword again. "Yes, so it would seem. Still, I was fairly certain that she was going to kill me just now."

"A, uh, similar thought may have crossed my mind."

"It would've been your fault, you know..." She retrieved her bow from the ground, slinging it over one shoulder. Part of her wanted to head back to her bed, bury herself in some blankets, and sleep until well past morning broke. It was a rather tempting thought.

Cullen raised one eyebrow, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "My fault?"

"Yes, I know for certain that you were the one that placed those snowballs there." She wanted to smile at him, but she kept her face as straight as she could. It was somewhat fun to try and make the Commander squirm. It was also preferable to going back to bed, truthfully speaking.

He knelt briefly before her, gathering the last snowball in his hands. She couldn't help but watch as he rolled the snow between his bare hands. "That wasn't their intended purpose."

"Oh, I'm quite aware of that fact. But Cassandra isn't..." She smiled, just a bit, as she inclined her head toward the gate.

"And what? You plan to tell her that we colluded on this?" He gestured to her hand, the same one he tended the day before, as he held the ball of snow in one hand.

She gave him the briefest of nods. He took her injured hand in his again. His flesh was cool against hers, but that wasn't why she got a sudden trail of goose pimples up her arm. It might have been the way his thumb traced over her wrist, just slightly, or the soft look of concern in his amber eyes. "Me? Oh never..." She gasped as he suddenly dumped the snow on top of her hand once more. Even though she knew it was coming, it still didn't prepare her for it. "It's still cold."

A soft smirk crossed his face, as he held her hand between his hands again. "It is? I hadn't noticed..."

[](http://s78.photobucket.com/user/spazeghost/media/Amber/evilsap.jpg.html)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork by Greendelle


End file.
